


Blowin' Up His Phone

by gala_apples



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Clubbing, M/M, Staying Home, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living vicariously through Mikey only works when Mikey is willing to tell him what he's doing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowin' Up His Phone

Gerard waits twenty minutes until he types in his first text _u there yet? :*_. He figures it’s a decent amount of time.

Mikey’s response comes back a few seconds later. _n. :*_ and then another _on the bus_ , and then a third _guy bside me smls like piss_.

Gerard laughs and turns on the tv. There’s got to be a horror movie on somewhere, it’s ten on a Friday night. He lands on Scream and decides to keep the channel. He’s not sure which one it is yet, he’s just seen the white mask, but they’re all decent. Especially the third, with the meta references to what happens in trilogies. He waits another fifteen minutes before asking _now?_

 _nxt stp_. It always makes Gerard laugh when he reads Mikey’s texts. His brother has something against vowels, he drops them whenever possible.

It goes to a commercial break and Gerard watches, convinced with each second that the vast majority of car dealerships are completely making up their bullshit sales. He doesn’t know what the fuck an APR is, and neither will anyone that walks in to get their car, and it’s a massive conspiracy to make sure nobody’s actually saving money. _now?_

_Just wlked in. Tried to bribe the guy, he still stmped my hnd. Lks lk i gotta beg for drinks tonite._

Gerard can just see it. His gorgeous brother flashing a twenty along with the five dollar cover, bigger bill carefully draped over his ID. The bouncer -bald, massively fat head with no discernible neck, blue-grey tattoos all over his arms and travelling up to where his straining black shirt hides his shoulders- shaking his head slowly and pressing the no alcohol stamp of doom onto Mikey’s hand. It’s a clear image in his head. Unfortunately, so is what’s going to happen next.

He and Mikey do shit, sometimes. Only when Mikey isn’t dating someone, though. Except for if he crawls into Gerard’s bed, needy. Gerard doesn’t give a flying elephant crap about being ‘the other’, or causing Mikey to cheat. They way he looks at it, Mikey would cheat whether or not he was there. Mikey’s got a phone full of people that would be down for a hook-up in a second. He’s never going to turn down his brother.

When Mikey is single things are different. When Mikey’s single that means he’s going out every night to see different bands, or to dance, or to play pool. When Mikey’s on the prowl, he’s searches hard, until he finds something that satisfies him.

_remember, tequila gets you drunk quicker than vodka. don’t eat the worm!_

The reply is a bit slower this time. _bggrs cnt b choosrs._ Which Gerard knows is true. Since he can’t buy his own, Mikey’s playing the ‘I might go home with you, if I’m drunk enough’ game. But how it’s going to go down depends on where he is.

_where are u?_

_dncng. Gios_. Gerard groans. Gios is a gay and lesbian bar, and Mikey is going to come home smashed. If he comes home at all. There’s no question that he’s going to get laid, it’s just a matter of if it’ll happen in the bathroom, or the other guy’s car, or if Mikey will go home with him. Gerard’s never seen him dance, but he’s seen Mikey fuck, and anyone that can move that fluidly in bed can move on a dance floor to techno.

He tortures himself with asking _any hot guys?_ It shouldn’t bother him that Mikey’s trying to find a boyfriend, and possibly settling for a fuck. It’s not like they’re exclusive. It’s not like they ever could be. They do what they do and they aren’t ashamed, but they’re realistic too. Nobody will be happy or impressed or even okay with it if they find out.

It’s a set of commercials later when Gerard gets a reply. For the amount of time it took Mikey to type it out, it’s not much of anything. _y. lots_

_pick out anyone special?_

Mikey doesn’t answer.

_Gios busy?_

Mikey doesn’t answer.

_anyone i’d like?_

And finally, twenty entire fucking minutes since the last text, Mikey sends _srry. hrd to txt with a drnk in each hnd_. Which, yeah, makes sense but it doesn’t tell Gerard a fucking thing. He looks up at the tv, and wills himself to care more about Dewey being stabbed than Mikey giving shitty vague replies.

It doesn’t work, which is why five minutes later he’s calling Mikey. He waits until it runs through to voicemail, just a hastily said “Mikey Way” and then a beep. Gerard leaves a message of ‘just call me back’ and hangs up.

Except it occurs to him since he’s at the bar, he’s probably got it set to vibrate instead of ring. So if he calls back, Mikey will probably be able to feel the buzz against his thigh. He calls again, hangs up instead of leaving a message, and calls again. He calls seven times before the screen flashes the opening scene for Scream 3. Apparently it’s a marathon.

He waits until the first set of commercials to call again. This time Mikey picks up. “Gerard! Fucking seriously! I told you to come. You decided you’d rather stay in the basement. You made your fucking choice! Stop texting me! Or don’t, whatever, but I’m busy, and I’m not going to reply.”

It’s totally fucking unfair. Mikey knows that when he goes out in public he has anxiety attacks. Groups of people around him make him hyperventilate, it feels like they’re breathing his oxygen and soon there’s not going to be any left, and he’ll be stuck sucking down carbon dioxide until he falls to the ground. When he tries to move within groups of people the ground starts to squirm, and Gerard has to remind himself how to walk properly, and with each step the ground quakes more until it’s this never ending mutter in his brain of _left foot, right foot, don’t fall, look up, don’t walk into anyone, look down, don’t trip on anything, keep going keepgoingkeepgoing!_ until he inevitably stumbles. And it always feels like everyone’s looking at him. The hair helps a bit, the strands like a human version of blinders, protecting him from things -nasty looks- he doesn’t want to see. Alcohol helps too, with smaller groups. But he could no more go to a club with Mikey than he could bicycle to France.

His “okay then, have fun” is weak, but it’s the best he can do. He can’t hate Mikey for wanting to get a boyfriend, and he can’t hate him because he’s not a loser that hides in a basement. Mikey hangs up without a goodbye, and Gerard settles into the couch, ready to watch Cotton Weary get murdered.

Hours later Gerard hears the beeping of the door opening. Mikey’s got thirty seconds before the alarm goes off. He tenses, ready to sprint up the stairs if Mikey’s too drunk to get it -the last thing he needs is Momma and Don and Elena waking up to the blare of the alarm- but Mikey’s got nimble fingers and shuts it off in time. He hears Mikey at the top of the stairs and quickly shuts the tv off and rushes to his room. If Mikey wants to talk, Gerard will talk, but he’s not gonna sit around watching Mikey sneer at the sight of Gerard and pajamas and tv if Mikey happens to be drunk and bitchy.

Mikey doesn’t stop at his room before crashing, which Gerard shrugs at. It’s almost four, he should probably be crashing soon himself. Except he’s not really tired, ever since coming home from university he’s pretty much stopped going to bed before dawn. The Queen piping through his ear buds is doing nothing to make him sleepy, he should probably change the playlist if he really wants to give it an effort. Whatever he decides, the nearly two litres of Coke he’s drunk is making it’s presence known. He’s got to take a leak before he does anything else.

On his way out from the bathroom Gerard notices what he didn’t notice going in. Mikey’s door is wide open, and though the lights are off, his custom painted Batman lava lamp is on. The yellow blobs illuminate the room fairly well. He can see Mikey’s back, and the back of Mikey’s head, and his ass. He can see Mikey fucking someone. And when he pulls the ear buds out of his ears, he can hear it too.

It’s a message, as clear as if it were in writing. It’s ‘this is what happens when you don’t get out’, and Gerard can’t look away. He’s damned either way. If he goes to clubs with Mikey he will pass out and die. If he doesn’t, Mikey will make it clear that he doesn’t need him. He hears Mikey grunt, and it sounds faintly like the ‘unst unst’ of techno beats, and Gerard’s heart breaks a little.


End file.
